


The Lost Boys of London

by RioRiley



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: F/M, Fairy Tale Retellings, Murder, Peter is a Little Shit, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:22:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RioRiley/pseuds/RioRiley
Summary: James hook has been living in a small flat in Bloomsbury, London for the past six years. He’s a single father to his young son Jack. He’s the center of Jame’s world, his entire life revolves around him, and has since he was born three years ago. Six months ago, Jack went missing, kidnapped right out of his bedroom window, and James is taking it upon himself to find his boy, and bring his captor to justice.
Kudos: 1





	The Lost Boys of London

It’s a Tuesday morning, and James is sipping a cup of earl grey as he looks through his smartphone, scrolling through his phone as he looks through the local news, hoping to see something that might be a lead to help him find Jack. Anything. London has had a big surge in kidnappings lately, and James is convinced they have to be connected, he knows deep down that the same man who took Jack has taken all the other boys who have gone missing lately. All the stories are the same too. One minute those little boys are sleeping peacefully in their beds, and when their parents go to wake them up in the morning, the little boys are gone, windows are open. The bobbies have made countless pleas to the public, to lock their bedroom windows, and usually, the parents are pretty good about doing it, but it always seems to happen that the one night they forget is the night their son is taken. The paper has a section in it now, for the Lost Boys of London. James shudders as he looks through the names, looking for clues, and his breath hitches each time his eyes cross over Jack’s name. 

Jack was the first boy to go missing.

It had been a cold night, right at the beginning of winter, and from what James remembers, it was the first snow of that winter season. He remembers putting Jack to sleep, reading him the stories of pirates he has always loved hearing. He remembers kissing his forehead, once he noticed that Jack had fallen asleep. Through everything, he’s glad that he remembered to kiss him that night, he’s glad that night he had taken the time to read to his boy, that he took the time for those silly moments, because now, he would give absolutely anything to have his boy back. He remembers waking up in the middle of the night, startled by a strange noise, and running into Jack’s room, to find Jack gone, the window wide open, snowflakes filtering through from the cold London night.

James feels as though a part of him died that night.

It's been six months now, and today happens to be Jack’s birthday. James knows that time is ticking for Jack, and that with each passing day, the chance of Jack being found alive gets slimmer and slimmer. It feels like there is a clock, ticking within Jame’s chest, making him painfully aware of each passing moment without his boy. James walks the streets of London each night, with a group of other fathers of the lost boys of London. He used to patrol the streets on his own in the beginning, in his wood-paneled station wagon, longing for the days Jack would refer to it as their ship. Now, the displaced fathers walk the streets together, joined in grief and rage, hoping to catch the kidnapper in the act of stealing another little boy, and have paroled the cobblestone streets for the past three months since the numbers really started adding up. Still, after all the time they have spent diligently watching over the London streets, they haven’t found anything until tonight.

They are walking through the London streets, shining their flashlights at any and every noise when James notices a man clinging to a lump in his arms, lowering himself from a second-story apartment window.

“Aye! You! Stop right there!” One of the fathers of the lost boys of London screams. The man looks alarmed as he drops the small bundle onto the ground. Another father is quick enough to run underneath the man, and catch the bundle, a little baby boy, no more than three months old. The man drops from the apartment building and starts running. James runs after him, feet carrying him faster than he has even ran in his life. The man is running so fast it is as though he is flying, as James chases him around a corner of the second street to the right of the apartment, knowing that the man has run to a dead end of a street. The man backs himself into the brick corner, clearly nervous, knowing he’s been caught as he looks up at James.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll be staying here until the bobbies get here. And then you’ll go with them, and you’ll tell them what the fuck you’ve done with all of our sons.” James says, gritting his teeth, as he holds his strong arms against the man, forcing him immovable. James grits his teeth at the man, wanting to pummel him into the bricks, but understanding that by doing so, he will never be able to see his son again. “What have you done with my boy?” He screams as anger filled tears start to come from the corners of his eyes.

“You’ll have to be more specific.” The man says, finally looking up at James.

“You took him on December third of last year. He was your first victim in the area.” James says, trying to force a sense of authority while remaining calm.

“Oh, he’s long gone, mate.” The man says, smiling with a villainous laugh surrounded by the freckles attributed to redheads. James can hear the sounds of the sirens wailing nearby, as he looks the man in the eyes. 

“Where is my boy.” He says sternly.

“Same place as the rest of ‘em.” The man says with a sinister smile.

The following day, Peter has been placed in prison and is certain to be charged with murder, most likely given the death penalty. James is glad, knowing that there will never be another father pained by the loss of a boy, but it feels almost unjust that after all the evil Peter brought into the world, he’s simply going to be put out of his misery by the prisons. The bobbies get the information they want from Peter, he draws them a map, of the crawlspace under his home, a guide to the location of all the lost boys of Londons’ bodies. The bobbies call James to let him know when they will be doing the digging, and James makes sure he is there. He feels a sense of obligation to be there for his son, as his body is dug up from his captor’s ground. James stands outside Peter’s home, watching as the police rip up the floorboards, and hearing the scream from inside, as the first body is removed from the crawlspace. The first, of 28 bodies, one of which being his little Jack, his little body still wearing his pale blue footed pajamas. He watches as the coroner, a local man with the last name of Smee, brings Jack’s body outside. He doesn’t look quite the same, in fact, the sight itself makes James want to vomit. That's his little boy, but now, he’s a skeleton, his innocent pajamas stained with blood, and covered in dirt from a haphazard burial. The bobbies tell James that according to Peter, Jack’s death was the quickest, as Peter hadn’t quite found the joy in killing yet. James thinks them telling him this is meant to make him feel better. 

It doesn’t.

He watches the coroner bring the little blue pajamaed boy towards him.

He falls to his knees. 

“That's my boy.” He says softly, tears coming from his eyes.

“I’m sorry Mr. Hook,” Smee says softly. “I truly am.” 

Hook nods, and looks at his little boy, knowing neither he nor the rest of the lost boys of London will ever be given the chance of growing up. 

The clock in his heart stops ticking

His world has ended.


End file.
